


A Possibility of Light

by TimesBeingWhatTheyAre



Series: A Family Of Our Choosing [1]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nate-Centric, One-Shot, Tears, h/c, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-12 05:10:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21228830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimesBeingWhatTheyAre/pseuds/TimesBeingWhatTheyAre
Summary: It wasn’t like his team were fooled by his act. They all knew that he needed the pretence of control, but really, that was all it was. A pretence. One that none of them (bar Sophie) dared to point out, not even when he stumbled downstairs with liquor still burning on his breath and launched them all into yet another reckless case, seconds away from claiming the lives of any one of them.He didn't deserve any of them. They didn't deserve to have him.





	A Possibility of Light

Nathan sighed, and rested his head on the cool glass of the window. Outside it was dark, and all he could see was the small patch of ground lit up by the flickering streetlight, and absent-mindedly, he watched the orange light through the slightly dingy window.

What was he even doing awake?

He closed his eyes, once, and opened them again just as slowly, eyelids as tired as the bags that plagued his face, and limbs barely functioning long enough for him to push himself away from the empty night.

Nathan sighed again.

He had managed to fall asleep for a few hours earlier, catching fragments of dreams that both delighted and tormented him with a multitude of sweet memories and tortured lies, but once he had woken up, gasping frantically for breath that eluded him, he couldn’t get back to sleep.

Abruptly, he forced his legs into movement, and stepped away from the window, sitting down heavily on the bed and creasing forwards into his hands. His hair felt oily beneath his rough palms, but Nate couldn’t summon the effort to take a shower. What was the point anyway?

He longed to wash the lingering sweat off of his skin, but he was still unaccountably shaken by his dreams. His mouth curled upwards into a vicious, self-loathing smile, mocking a man who pretended to control the world and couldn’t even control himself.

It wasn’t even like the rest of his team were fooled by his act. They all knew that he needed the pretence of control, but really, that was all it was. A pretence. One that none of them (bar Sophie) dared to point out, not even when he stumbled downstairs with liquor still burning on his breath and launched them all into yet another reckless case, seconds away from claiming the lives of any one of them.

He didn’t deserve to be their leader. He didn’t deserve them.

Nate clenched his fists harder, feeling how the hair tugged away from his scalp at the roots, and how his fingers carved half-crescents of pain into the palm of his skin, and still it wasn’t enough.

His shoulders trembled, almost imperceptibly, but noticeable enough for anyone who could see the beads of moisture that formed at the corners of his closed eyes. 

‘Guess it’s one of those nights’ he thought bitterly, swallowing down the lump of self-hatred that lurked in his throat, and dashing away the tears with the corner of his hand. After all, he had no right to sit around wasting his life and wasting his time, not when others depended on him, not when he had already failed so much- not when he had already lost Sam.

Sam.

Damnit, he missed him. Sam had been happy and charming, mischievously messy and never willing to obey anyone. It had driven him and Maggie crazy once. Before.

Still, his child had also been vividly alive, at every second of the day, using up all of Nathan’s time and energy to run around after him and keep him safe from all of life’s ills, and it had been a sacrifice that they made gladly. 

He folded his arms tightly, pressing against them tightly enough to leave bruises, and close enough to his chest to stop himself from breaking apart. He had no right.

Despite all of his best attempts, Nathan couldn’t stop himself. All it took was the memory of Sam smiling guiltily, standing in front of the newest thing he had accidentally broken, and the tears returned, forcing their way out of his burning eyes and coursing steadily down his cheeks. No matter how much he wiped them away, they kept coming.

He bent over further, dragging his eyes open in hopes of controlling himself, but all he succeeded in doing was spotting the picture that he had placed so lovingly on the wall, the one that Sam had drawn of their family, back when they were happy. The picture was bright, wax crayons held determinedly in a small hand and defiantly scribbled across a page with no regard to any rules of drawing. What use did a child have for rules?

He continued staring at it, face crumpling into sobs that he kept muffled by placing his hands desperately over his mouth as he forced himself to face the harsh truth. Sam was gone.

He’d never see his smile again. Never have to buy new glasses when the old ones smashed, never have to patch up clothes and knees alike, never make another packed lunch, tie a tie, advise him on how to pick up a girl, watch him go out alone at night, his 21st birthday, a wedding, a grandson, a life.

None of it.

He gave up on pretending like he could control himself, and let the tears have their way.

It was silent in the room, aside for his muffled sobs, and Nate missed the days when his house was full of noise. It was dark too, the door closed instead of left open for when Sam woke up to crawl into bed with his parents, and the dawn was a long way off yet.

“Hey Nate, sorry to wake you, but I wanted to- Nate?” a voice suddenly broke into the quiet of his room. Light flooded into the room from the hallway, and Nate startled into standing, wiping away his tears as quickly as he could and smiling unsteadily.

“Yes Eliot?” he replied, coughing a little as his voice came out hoarse, and facing his friend, who stood a little taken aback in the doorway.

“No- it’s- it’s fine. Are you- okay?” Eliot asked, looking concerned, and Nate forced more power into his failing smile. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, don’t worry. What was it you wanted?” Nathan reiterated, hoping that Eliot hadn’t noticed anything wrong.

“No, you aren’t,” Eliot judged, eyes narrowing as he took in the scene he’d accidentally walked in on. He’d only come up to find if he’d left his phone earlier, since he couldn’t spot it around anywhere, but when he opened the door, it was to find the elder man with his head in his hands at the foot of the bed. Nathan had made a good recovery, but Eliot wasn’t fooled easily. He could see the lingering redness on the other man’s cheeks, the damp eyes that Nate was trying hard to blink away, and the hoarse voice had only confirmed his suspicions.

“Nate, what’s wrong?” Eliot asked again, more confidently now, and taking a step into the room.

“Nothing! Just- go back downstairs, don’t worry about me,” Nathan bluffed, knowing that Eliot had probably come from either the office or the pub, and hopeful that he would just leave.

“Seriously man, whatever it is, I want to help,” Eliot insisted, quietly closing the door to Nathan’s room and flicking on the dim light to make sure that Nathan couldn’t escape the conversation.

“No, just go, it’s fine. I’ll be fine. You can’t help,” Nathan argued, ignoring the way that his heart continued to pound in his chest and the memories that wanted to drown him now that the sudden distraction was gone.

“What can’t I help with? Trust me Nate, you know I’ll do anything,” Eliot responded, staring solemnly across at Nathan from a couple paces away, but Nathan wasn’t having it.

“No! Eliot, just leave. Please,” he tried, finding his voice sticking in his throat with the last word and leaving the sound trembling between them.

“It’ll be okay,” Eliot replied softly, taking a step forwards, and then another one. “Why don’t you sit down Nate? Come on,” he requested, sitting down next to Nathan and patting the space that the mastermind had been sat in before.

“No it won’t,” Nathan muttered quietly, taking the seat and staring down at his hands. “It won’t,”

“What can I do to help man? Seriously,” Eliot asked earnestly, trying to make eye contact with Nathan despite the fact that he was determinedly looking away. “It’s gonna be okay, whatever it is,”

“NO IT WON’T!” Nathan yelled, looking up and glaring at Eliot. “It won’t be okay! He’s gone!” he stood up and paced away, back towards the window. “He’s gone,”

The second phrase was uttered quietly, gently, and Eliot saw how Nathan’s shoulders began to shake as he said it. 

“I’m sorry,” Eliot comforted, standing up and pulling Nathan back down to the bed. He wrapped his arms around Nathan, forcing the man into his strong embrace, and brows furrowed in sorrow as Nate cried into his shoulder, ignoring the wetness that soaked through the fabric in favour of comforting a friend and a mentor.

He didn’t let go even as Nathan gripped tightly around his back and gasped in jagged breaths of oxygen, falling apart in the bedroom that Nathan had bought with the money gained from helping others, and quietly supporting him as he wept for his son and the future he would never have.

After a little while, Nathan pulled back, eyes downcast as he sniffed and viciously rubbed his eyes and cheeks.

“Sorry,” he muttered, flushed red in embarrassment at his loss of control, and Eliot placed a hand on his shoulder.

“No, Nate, you have nothing to be sorry for. You lost a son. I can’t make that okay, but I want you to know that we are all here to support you,” Eliot insisted, standing up smoothly and walking towards the door.

“I’ll see you in the morning for our next case,” he threw back over his shoulder, opening the door to leave.

“Yeah…and Eliot?” Nathan replied, somewhat subdued. 

“Nate?”

“…thank you,” he whispered, and Eliot stood outlined by the hall light for a moment, turning around fully to see Nathan.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled, and closed the door.

Nathan listened to his receding footsteps, sighed, and stood up to turn off the light.

Life wasn’t alright, but he had Eliot, his team, Sophie, and a briefing to stay awake for in the morning.

Maybe life wasn’t all bad.


End file.
